Best Furlong Poems
I walk in silence as I defile
Chasing circles with a vixen vile
Only the shadows know my pain
For I walk in silence of slumbering shame
With solitudes of the fortress built
I walk in silence with a gainful guilt
No tomorrows for the sorrows sing
For I walk in silence with a sinful sting
Tears that build an ocean view
With crying clouds and a haunting hue
I walk in silence within your essence
Quicksand thoughts and projected presence
The minstrel plays a saddened song
Listening in the deafening silence that I furlong
Lonely lingering in the great abyss
For I dare to dream for your silent kiss.
July.22.2016
Loneliness - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Nayda Ivette Negron
Fixing our own mistakes can be quite a vexatious trial
Laughing at our errors often brings us a humorous smile
Asking others for assistance is not a sign of weakness
What it shows is a humble nature known as meekness
Because of our human imperfection we get things wrong
That doesn't mean our resolve and patience is not strong
Seek to find the solutions you may have known all along
It just takes some trial and error to go that extra furlong
Procrastination is not the answer, for it will only prolong
finding explanations for problems that gather in a throng
Get to it! It's as simple as stabbing meat on a fork prong
You will be elated with your life and singing a new song
Don't digress. Be determined to dissuade dense denial
Upon a first reflection, no human achieves perfection
Even following direction, we still need some correction
Fixing our own mistakes can be quite a vexatious trial
Word Pairing: Trial and Error
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
February 2, 2016
4X4 Master Rhyme Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
Dragon always needs to be entertained, or there’s trouble brewing, I Say!
So we got him an electric train set, for him and his penguins the other day.
But naturally, he had to sit in the middle of the track, not to mention his tail!
It kept constantly, knocking that train, plumb off its tracks, without fail!
And his penguins were way to big, to ride those cars that go clickety clack.
Yes, siree’, every time the train started up, another calamity, set him back!
Nobody likes Dragon when he’s frustrated, and Grandpa Troll, least of all!
So he picked up Dragon, by the scruff of his neck, and that’s not easy, atoll!
He said the idea we had was a sound one, but it didn’t fit his age and size.
So he plunked him into the old hay wagon and began to take him for a ride!
Erelong the trolls had laid a wooden track, to run the wagon on for a furlong.
Dragon was having such great fun, that he decided to pull his penguins along.
Our neighbor witch made Dragon a fancy harness with which to pull them all.
Yep, there was more bling, per square inch, on it, than to count before next fall!
Here, it’s Spring with her sun, my poetry friends, giving him energy to burn.
And he was so energized, that every kid on the block, got more than one turn.
Yep, the parents brought them in their Easter Best, as cameras started to roll.
A circular track made it more fun as they all burst into great children’s’ songs!
Now Dragon had everyone’s eyes on him… so he was the happiest of them all.
Even the Trolls got long rides, you know, those who built the track, you recall?
So today we were all winning and swimming in fun, because of Grandpa Troll.
My moral is: fancy gadgets, aren't always what we need, when we want to play.
A little imagination and moving around can sometimes be better, to save the day.
And some times Fun, with no competition can bring friendships closer, your way.
The bishop said it was such a disgrace
That the minister's horse lacked much pace,
He remonstrated it was a cardinal sin
When you put the church's money in
And it finishes last in a six furlong race.
Stepping down from the AC coach
on to the railway platform
A hot wave of salty moist air
drenches me
On my customary visit
to this city I'm tethered to
by my memories..
She coyly calls herself Chennai
like a new bride renamed
in her husband's home
At heart though she is still Madras
and to the likes of me ;
It's a relief to slip into my mother tongue
to bargain with the auto walla
after mouthing words for months together
in an alien tongue..
We slice through the dense traffic
As I nod distractedly
to the driver's political soliloquy
While my eyes search for familiar landmarks
that were part of my youth
Moore market
Poppat Jamal
Saphire theatre
Gemini flyover;
the city rushes by
a phantasmagoria of urban scenes
until the fragrance of panneer roses
attack my nostrils
as I watch flower sellers
deftly spinning silver threads
around thick rose garlands...
The milling crowd at Pondy Bazaar
with women shopping tirelessly
for jewels, sarees and utensils..
Saravana bhavan coming to the rescue
of their cravings
for sambhar vada or bhelpuri....
I quickly make a mental list
of goods to take back when I return--
Coffee powder
baby mangoes
mor milagai
ambika appalam
not to forget
a visit to the Naidu Hall..
The bottle neck at Panagal park
a hub for matrimonial shopping
slows down my journey,
then a familiar slide down
the doraiswamy subway
and a furlong along the railway tracks
I alight in mambalam
where my mother awaits with open arms;
A week's time for me
to imbibe the city's moods..
to gaze at cawing ravens on neem trees
to discuss the story line of soaps on TV
to inhale the simple aromas of brahmin meals
Before I bid farewell to it temporarily
From a young age he took to the roads,
never staying anywhere for long.
Always singing a cheerful song.
Yet most of the ladies seemed like toads.
Making choices at all crossroads
meeting here and there a tagalong.
Together they travel a furlong
parting when they came to byroads.
You could say that he freeloads
although this would be wrong.
Living off grid he has to be strong
and he lives keeping to road codes.
Jobs he's had by the caseloads
bounced around like a Ping-Pong.
One day meeting a lady in a sarong
soon moved on remembering earlier episodes.
Women passed by like carloads
for few he could tolerate overlong.
To freedom he will continue to belong
chasing the distant dream until he implodes.
Horseman
Canter
Equine
Panter
Hoofbeats
Thumping
Mammal
Jumping
Eat dust
So long
Fastest
Furlong
Poetry of life
Is as elegant as forest
In both
The treasure, hidden within…
Like forest, her thirst
Opportune sign
In each furlong, the mystery
Intimately grip…
Where is the beauty?
In such green lush or in such silken thigh
I am struck by the beauty
Nature or otherwise…
Men dressed in top hats and tails
Ladies in designer dresses and fascinators,
Bookmakers standing by the rails
Taking bets singles or accumulators,
Epsom downs, Derby day classic
The best of three year old equines,
Tensions heightened becoming dramatic,
Punters drinking champagne and wines,
Beautiful majestic Arabian athletes
Parade in front of the stand, so elegant,
Coats shining, muscular, nothing competes
Showing their professional temperament,
Jockeys in pristine silks so colourful,
Trainers and owners in the paddock,
Stall handlers loading horses so skilful,
Under starters orders ready to gallop,
Stalls open, up goes a roar from the crowd
One and half mile to the finish and victory,
Last furlong favourite in the lead, cries so loud,
Another exquisite young Colt makes history.
On June 3rd 2017
SPARK
Jeannie Flinn Furlong
My Head claimed, "It’s time to pen my feelings for you.
She thought your season had ripened to a friendly adieu…
I wanted my cleverness to sound brave and bold.
Instead, my betterment made noises … bitter and cold."
Head continued, "For sure, this logic's a perfect best!
A simple note, timed just right, brings greatest rest."
More pondering, Head touts, "She’ll agree, 'cause it’s really past due!
How could two people so profoundly different ever ever be true?"
Head adds, "Just keep right on walking, memories disappear.
Once passed THE break up, habits do fade. You’re soon in another sphere.
It becomes an odd chapter, far away in a book, one you read."
My Heart, hearing Head’s advice, came to life to shudder, "Drop dead!
Mister Head! What a nincompoop, you are! Love makes the world go round!
How could you? Dare you! Quite profound!
Mister, such a trip, so wonderful, is more than just a lark!
Opposites made for each other, we fire such a SPARK!”
10/21/21
(any resemblance to the following and
living persons iz purely coincidental)
Family, friends, and
strangers didst weep
when my brutally
murdered gagged and
bound distended corpse
put to eternal sleep
unbeknownst to homicide deep
pill lore hubble
killer, said murderer,
would sow what he did reap
on the deadly war holy jeep
purrs, cow path
this angry ghost
effortlessly held scented rag
to choke, a keep
sake squeezing out breath
from my corporeal flesh
with maggots didst creep
still adrip when bled,
to death, now enshrouded
in black hoodie,
and scythe leant lee
cackled with grateful dread
enroute to pay the
killer man moments ago
took hoof on
horse back fled
in hot pursuit destination,
albeit unknown,
yet aye twill find
trumpeting psychopath,
and quickly dismember
off with his head,
thus equipped with
keen bloodhound find
ding needle in hay
stack instinctive second nature
vengeance casually,
I hapt lee ghoul
lucky did allay
fresh trail scented out lay
boring haphazard way
word ness after gray
beard i.e. yours
truly he did slay
no matter wiseacre, may
be goot headstart, said jay
bird haint gonna
be twittering furlong,
cuz tell trail (and tail) flay
ming signs, he didst betray
noon the wiser hoo ray
bethought to brush
meticulously (cover) tracks
over most likely today
will merely (and merrily delay)
this phantom of neigh (nee)
and dearth all giving away
hideout, now tis
my turn, I didst inveigh
asper his final "say"
perhaps with ghost to
(gusto) hollering as no weigh
to hex press me excitement
thrusting sword
into his heart yay!
"I carry your heart with me (I carry it In my heart) I am never without you"
Quote - by E. E. Cummings
She stood against the tide and waded through,
Though taken by some, she emerged stronger,
She tussled until all her dreams came true,
She walked through midnight a furlong longer.
Walking through the woods was her huge delight,
She communed with the facets of nature,
Until beyond seen borders she took flight,
Taken beyond the earth's nomenclature.
Her departure hangs heavy in my heart,
Her exit still brings tearful memories,
She resides still though we have come apart,
Thoughts of her are knitted like tapestries.
They stand before me as dawn and twilight,
Gloom that’s recalcitrant to the sun's light.
September 22, 2022.
Theme: Lost to Heaven - Grandmother,
Writing Challenge - In My Heart - SForms - Poetry Contest,
Constance La France.
Temps of the Morn
Jeannie Flinn Furlong
Frozen in time, brrr isn’t it chilling! But, thinking what a cool way to go!
Red that color starts at the tip of the head moves slowly to meet a really fat toe.
Out barnstorming each ‘cool of the morning’; yes, remembering time to go soon will arrive. We know
Missing friendship during other times of the day, chores provide distraction as we go, though…
Taking time on arrival in the ‘cool of the morn’, my ghost-heart friend will say
“Home sweet home,” then snuggles down to take off the chill in the warm, warm sweet smelling hay.
Time is so short, as the ‘cool of the morn’ ends on a high note of camaraderie, my friend wants to stay,
“Have a ghostly day,” before hurriedly escaping far, far on down the way…
Only feigning happiness and forcing a cheerful, heart bumping, great smile,
Using the next moments, we pray for more time in the ‘cool of the morn’ stretching a mile.
Shyly making a quick exit, prevents spectators seeing those heart tears flow like the Nile
Each end of the morn’s coolness seems to always present a new trial…
One more minute or hour will do; more learning to ‘ghost talk’ with this shadowy friend
Flip a coin, ‘Heads or Tails’, more my time I’ll win time in a joyful trend
Tails it is! More Time runs past the ‘cool of the morn’. My heart jumps madly, I’m first to commend
Heaven or Hell, they’ll grant many surprises to warm my heart, I’ll pretend
Deciding.. I’ll pray for my red wrapped request, “please”! It’s granted, more happiness forms in my heart
Extending our time past the ‘cool of the morn’ does brighten my spark
Allowing our friendship to flourish past our humble, so true, and not a bit stark…
Beginning…ah yes, slowly stepping ahead…headed toward sunlight..racing out of the dark…
Days fly by, after our heartfelt announcement “time not torn”!
More FRIENDSHIP! Stronger bonds bind past that ‘cool of the morn’
Happily celebrating til light of the moon! Congrats dear heart, no scorn!
Sunning in time! Hmm! Hear the soft sizzling! Time ends when it’s a ‘warm past the morn'. Newly born!
Tomorrows Not Yesterday
This nightmare drama so soon will perish.
I’ll remember the anguish but no tear.
We sort days for memories to cherish.
Yes! Resist all blatant aspect of fear.
Glimmering tomorrows will become clear.
Come join me! letting innocence unfold.
Put on the brightest crown to best your bold!
Follow instincts meeting new mystery
Challenge the waiting, believe in untold
Time does not linger, waiting history.
Jeannie Flinn Furlong
October 8, 2020
Dedicated to my husband, Kendal, and our 11 grandchildren - Samantha, Michael, Emily, Erika, Nilson, Charlie, Dash, Lucas, Davis, Jason, Julia
October 8, 2020
Weave that spell of magic,
Wean away everything tragic.
Where in the world were you so long?
Well, for you I could have always walked that extra furlong.
When moods are in the upswing,
With it well being it does bring.
Wading troubled waters hand in hand,
Weariness beware, we will send you to remand.
What does love mean to both of us?
One factor that binds us without any fuss.
Why for Valentine day would we need a reminder?
When we celebrate love every day of the year.